Fade In On A Girl
by idbeinthefollies
Summary: A series of one shots based on the lives of all the Smash characters. Each chapter represents a line of the song "Let Me Be Your Star". Second chapter is better than the first.
1. Fade In On A Girl

**A/N: Oh look another story by yours truly. This will be a series of one shots involving all the Smash characters. Some will be canon, some will not. There will be past and future fics. Genre and pairings are subject to change. Rated T to be safe. Each line will represent one line of the song "Let Me Be Your Star"**_  
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_Fade in on a girl..._

Five year old Karen Cartwright looked out on the car window, her eyes widening in amazement. She was finally in New York City! The little girl had never left her hometown in Iowa before and the sheer size of the place would have been frightening to most children her age but Karen had always been uncommonly strong and the big city only endeared her. The family spent the next three days wandering around, getting lost, taking tour buses, site seeing, the usual tourist traps. Karen enjoyed herself immensely, loving the hustle and bustle of the seemingly endless place. They were walking through Times Square when she saw something that would change her life, a group of people on the street dressed in tattered clothing. There lips were moving and people were watching them. Were they begging for money? Karen was intrigued. She broke out of her mother's grasp and darted through the crowd.

"Karen! Karen, get back here." her mother called, chasing after the child. But Karen wasn't listening. She had to figure out what those people were doing. It was more important then anything right now. As she drew nearer, she realized they were singing. Karen gazed on in astonishment. They were standing there, singing in the streets, as if it were entirely normal. She saw now that the men and women were dressed old fashioned, like they were she saw when she was at the museum with her class. She couldn't really hear what they were saying only catching snippets but it didn't matter, Karen was mesmerized. And then she noticed that they weren't all grown ups like her parents. There was a little girl standing there too, near the front, just a few years older than her. She had little blonde ringlets and was carrying a broom. She smiled big and sung along, her eyes twinkling. She looked like she was having a lot of fun! Karen suddenly wished that she could be up there too.

When Karen's mother caught up with her, she reprimanded the little girl severely but it was too late. Karen had already been bitten by the bug.

**If you can tell me what show she was watching, I will let you choose the subject matter (no smut) and character for one of the lines. Thanks for reading.**


	2. With A Hunger For Fame

**A/N: Bear with me because I have never written Derek before. Please read and review.**

**Note: This is AU.**

_With a hunger for fame..._

Derek Wills was sorting through sheet music and half done script pages and drinking a glass of scotch when he heard knocking on his door. He sauntered over, taking his time, wondering who would disturb him at this hour. When he finally reached his destination he peeked through the spyhole. Standing there was Ivy Lynn, decked out in a red dress and full makeup, looking slightly apprehensive. He smiled to himself before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

"Ivy." he said, expressionless.

"Can I come in?" All signs of her previous agitation were gone. It wasn't a question, it was a demand. He conceded and she walked in. Working quite hard, he noticed, to let him see her hips swaying. With Ivy, there was always a constant effort. Every move she made was calculated, learned and designed to achieve her goals. She was an embodiment of ambition. Sexy and determined. It was why he had agreed to give her a callback, despite the fact that he was partial to the Cartwright girl, both as a lover and as an actress. Ivy Lynn held a certain element of ruthlessness to her. She carried the wisdom of a girl who had been around the block a few times, a cynicism that would play beautifully as Marilyn but would crush Norma Jean. Norma Jean was important. The audience would fall in love with Norma Jean, sympathize with her. Marilyn was unlikeable without Norma Jean.

"This is an absolutely gorgeous place." she said, her eyes darting about, taking in her surroundings. He said nothing, just stared at the girl. She was the polar opposite of Karen. Blonde and curvaceous where the other girl was slim. Hard where the other was soft. Assertive where the other was timid. He almost laughed at the thought. Karen was naive enough that she had come to his apartment in sweats, expecting an actual coaching session. Ivy, on the other hand, had found him and was presenting herself, fully knowing that it would only be sex. She would do anything for this part. Anything.

"Is that real?" she asked, gesturing to the Picasso hanging on the wall. He nodded, still studying her. Suddenly, he had an idea. Walking over to the area he had vacated in favour of her, he grabbed a page off the table and placed it in her hands. For the first time that night, he saw confusion play across of her pretty features. But she recovered quickly, the emotion gone fast as it had come.

"What do you want me to do with these?" Derek scoffed at her playing dumb.

"I want you to _read _them. Obviously." He could see she was skeptical and more than a little apprehensive but she complied, sitting down, frowning as she studied the lines she'd been given. Less than a minute later she looked back up and told him she was ready. He stood in front of her and began speaking.

"I don't like the way they look at you."

"I can't help the way they look at me, Joe." The line was delivered in a breathy tone that sounded almost exactly like Marilyn. He saw that she wasn't looking at the script. It didn't surprise him. In sheer ability, Ivy had always been the more capable of the two girls. She was devoted and worked harder than Karen. She was a good actor, very analytical. She knew her character backwards and forwards, of that he had no doubt. But the soul wasn't there, the quiet desperation.

"You love it, you love every bit of it. The way you walk, the way you sing, the way you dress."

"It's my job to look like this." Another seemingly perfect delivery.

"Your job is to take care of me, and our home. I gave up baseball, why can't you give up movies?"

"I want to Joe."

"No, you don't. You could stop so easily and yet you keep going. You complain, you cry, you go crazy, you say you don't want it, but you so obviously do."

Ivy looked straight up at him.

"Yes Joe. I do. There I said it. I love it. I love people watching me as I go by. Men smiling, whistling. You know why?" her eyes were brimming with tears now.

"Because I want to be loved. I have to make them love me. If I stop doing movies... they'll forget me. They'll stop loving me." And suddenly, Derek was acutely aware that he wasn't talking to Marilyn anymore. He stared straight at Ivy, looked right into her eyes and he saw it. Just a glimpse. Behind Ivy's confident exterior was a girl just as deeply vulnerable as Marilyn. She wanted this part because she wanted out of the chorus. She wanted out of the chorus because she wanted to be the star. Wanted the fame. Wanted the love.

She was breathing rapidly, having put a lot of emotion into the scene. As she came out of character, her facade just about to slip back on, he leaned down and kissed her. He could feel surprise registering and then acceptance. She gave in completely, not even fighting for dominance. She hadn't had time to morph herself back into _confident_ Ivy, _vivacious_ Ivy. He was dealing with Ivy, the broken chorus girl.

They had sex. It was good and satisfying but it wasn't why he gave her the part.


	3. And A Face And A Name To Remember

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update... I had some major writer's block. But it's all good now and I have a couple more chapters written. I'm not sure how much I like this chapter but it's the best I could do so bear with me. This one takes place in the year 1990 and there are some pop culture references. If you don't know what Cop Rock is then I suggest you do a quick youtube search. It's basically your average crime show, except everyone randomly bursts out into song. It's helluva cheesy but it's also hilariously entertaining. It got cancelled pretty fast and was universally regarded as awful but I figure it would definitely something a young Tom and Julia would watch. **

_And a face and a name to remember.._

Tom Levitt sat in the lecture hall contemplating gouging his eyes out. He couldn't remember ever being so bored. The professor was going on about some number sequence, looking about as pleased to be there as Tom was.

"The value of a over b divided by c is equal to the..." the balding man droned on and on. Absentmindedly, Tom began humming, creating a song in this head.

_This class is goddamn boring, _

_And that kid over there is snoring._

He had made it through a chorus and three verses by the time the teacher finally dismissed the class. Tom grabbed his bag and bolted to the door, calculating how much time he had until Cop Rock. Distractedly he rounded a corner and crashed full on into a redheaded female, causing her to tip over unceremoniously and spill her tea everywhere.

"Oh my god!" he cried, bouncing up quickly and rushing around, picking up all things she had dropped.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine. Honestly." she said, smiling and pushing her crazy red curls off her face so that they were sitting on the top of head. She was wearing a black jacket complete with shoulder pads and and a long flowing skirt, that was now stained and slightly wet at the bottom. It was a odd outfit, but it worked on her. Tom thought she was very pretty though she wasn't exactly his type, being female and all.

"At least let me buy you another tea." he offered.

"I'm gay by the way," he told her matter of factly, so she knew he wasn't coming on to her.  
>"Alright. But let's stop by my apartment so I can change clothes." He agreed and soon he was being guided towards a rundown building in the shadiest part of town. After climbing up what seemed like 30 flights of stairs and witnessing a total of five couples making out, the two finally reached her door. He watched as she turned the knob and followed her in.<p>

"Wait here for a sec. I'll be right back." she said. He settled down on her couch and turned on the TV. The picture was grainy but watchable and he flipped channels until he found what he was looking for.

"Are you seriously watching Cop Rock?" came her voice from behind him. He shrieked in surprise and shame.

"Maybe." he said hesitantly, trying to avoid eye contact. This was extremely embarrassing. _Honestly Tom _he reprimanded himself _You're never going to make friends if you keep doing things like this. _But she surprised him by grinning wildly and running toward him.

"I LOVE THAT SHOW!" she cried, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to him.

"You do?" he asked, wondering if she was playing some kind of trick on him.

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I know it sucks. But come on, it's a musical TV show! With Ben Vereen!"

And that was when Tom realized that this girl was soul mate.

They never did end up going out for coffee. Instead they stayed at her apartment with a bottle of wine where he discovered she was an art history major but what she really wanted to do was write music for broadway. Her family was dirt poor and she was working her way from the ground up. He found himself confiding to her that he really didn't want to become an accountant, that he was doing it to please his dad who was still adjusting to the whole gay thing. They talked about theatre and their favourite composers (They both agreed Stephen Sondheim was the best by far). They talked about their friends and significant others (Julia was off again with her boyfriend, Frank). They talked about their hopes and dreams and how hard it was sometimes, wanting something so seemingly unattainable.

And then they were at the keyboard she had bought from a secondhand store, playing songs they had written themselves. Tom was taken aback by her abilities. Not only was her voice beautiful but her lyrics were really witty although she was clearly a self-taught piano player. Soon enough, they were working together and writing silly songs about whatever struck their fancy, him on music with her making up the words. Giggling wildly, she lay back on the floor.

"God, I haven't had so much fun in ages." she said, turning her head to look at him. He sat down beside her.

"Me neither." And it was true. This was the one of the best nights he'd ever had. Suddenly, she collapsed into a fit of laughter.

"What?" he asked, smiling.

"I just realized I don't even know your name." she told him.

"It's Tom." he said, laughing himself.

"How about you?"

"Julia."

**Thanks for reading. Please review and/or check out my other story. :)**


	4. The Past Fades Away Norma Jean's Gone

**A/N: This one is pretty long. What can I say, I love writing Ivy. **

The_ past fades away because as of this day Norma Jeane's gone. _

Ivy Lynn sat outside the studio getting ready to read for the final callbacks of Marilyn: The Musical. The creative staff had just gone inside, leaving her alone with her main competition, a newbie by the name of Karen Cartwright. According to Ivy's dancer friend, Dennis, the brunette girl sitting across from her was an native Iowan who had just got to New York a few months ago. She couldn't have been more than 24 and she had absolutely no experience, yet here she was, the only thing stopping Ivy from finally getting what she'd always wanted: a part in a broadway show. Ivy had been hopping from ensemble to ensemble for the past decade. And while the years had greatly improved her dancing, they hadn't done much for her self esteem. In Ivy's mind this was her one big shot and now some nobody was going to swoop in a steal Marilyn out from right under her nose. It incensed Ivy. The girl was as green as they came. Ivy had paid her dues. She had spent years being the backup singer, now it was her turn to be the star. But somehow, everyone seemed enamoured by the neophyte.

Karen glanced over at Ivy, looking as though she were just about to open her mouth to say something. Ivy shot her a death glare and the Iowan returned to her former position like a wounded bird. It struck Ivy how naive she was. The brunette hadn't had enough exposure to showbiz to really understand what a harsh business it was. Ivy realized this was probably her first callback for a lead. The idea had long since lost its novelty for the bombshell blonde, she had been turned away one too many times, but Karen most likely still believed that her big break was just around the corner. Ivy would have traded her years of experience to be able to feel that kind of pure hope, to have that innocence. But Ivy had never been like that, not even on at her first broadway audition.

**~FLASHBACK~**

It was the summer after high school when she'd heard about a new musical based on "Little Women." She knew she fit the description of Amy to a tee, blonde curls and a baby face. When she arrived at the studio, she was surprised and terrified to see the dozens of other hopefuls waiting outside the doors, all gorgeous, leggy dancer types. Ivy went to the desk and was directed to take a seat. It would be a while, she was told, equity took priority. Of course, she'd known that this wouldn't be easy, her mom was a showbiz veteran after all, but the sheer number of people was something she hadn't expected. Her mother had already been a Tony Winner when Ivy was born so she had never really had any exposure to what it was like working your way from the ground up. After nearly two hours of sitting there, studying her song and monologue, she finally worked up the courage to talk to somebody. Glancing around the room, she'd picked a pretty redhead, leaned in and whispered hello.

"Hey." the auditionee replied, barely looking up. She wasn't being rude, but Ivy could tell that she barely registered on this girl's radar.

"My name's Ivy Conroy. What's yours?" she had asked, not one to give up easily. The woman finally looked up, studying her with a puzzled expression on her face. Ivy sat uncomfortably, wondering why she was being analyzed so closely. She'd decided to break the awkward silence herself.

"So, who would you be?" She was met with another look of utter confusion.

"In Little Women." Ivy clarified.

"Probably Meg." the girl replied, never taking her eyes off the blonde.

"How about you?"

"Amy. You know, the hair, the face. I loved the book. My dad used to read it to me when I was little." Ivy told her, making small talk.

"Not your mom?" the redhead asked, a little too inquisitively.

"No," Ivy answered hesitantly. Her mother was a bit of a sore subject.

"She was busy a lot."

"Doing what?" the woman seemed extremely interested, far more than she should have been but Ivy complied.

"She's a performer." Suddenly, the other girl's jaw dropped.

"Your mother is Leigh Conroy, isn't she?" Ivy nodded nervously, slightly frightened by her reaction.

"I knew I recognized your name." She whipped around, turning to the other girls and whispered fervently.

"Hey guys. Leigh Conroy's daughter is here!" And all of a sudden, Ivy was being swarmed. Girls of all ages were crowding around her asking her what her mother was like. It was overwhelming but not unpleasant. She kept herself occupied for the next few hours, trading stories about growing up backstage for tips on how to impress the casting director (namely, sleep with him) and the rules of the business. When they finally called for non-equity, Ivy got up and entered the audition room. It was small and grey, she had been expecting something more lavish, but at this point, she was too nervous to care. It was as if butterflies were cartwheeling through her intestines. But she pasted on her show face and handed her 16 bars to the pianist.

A week passed before they called. She was coming home from her friend's house when she walked in on her mom, holding the phone to her ear and scribbling something down on a pink memo pad.

"Yep. I'm sure she'll be thrilled. No, no, no. We'll definitely work together again Greg. Alright, thanks. Bye." Leigh turned to face her daughter.

"You got a callback." she told Ivy, her face expressionless.

"Really?" Ivy felt like jumping into the air and screaming. A broadway callback on her first try?

"It's just for the ensemble, but yes." Leigh replied, smoothing down her skirt, not looking at Ivy. Normally, it would have upset Ivy immensely that her mother didn't seem to be putting forth any effort to appear happy for her child, but right now Ivy was far too excited to mind. This was big. Sure, it wasn't an actual part, but you had to start somewhere, right?

"Don't get too excited Ivy." her mother told her.

"It's a long road to broadway. This'll be a workshop, if you're lucky enough to get cast that is." the older woman said, tossing her curls. But nothing could dampen Ivy's spirits. She bounced off to her room, never looking back to see her mother's eyes fill with tears.

Ivy showed up for the callback decked out in full on dancer gear, complete with two inch La Ducas, ready to make a splash. She knew she looked every bit the seasoned expert and she was determined to act the part as well. They were in a much larger studio this time, spacious, with a wall of mirrors. Tall, muscular men and women were crowded in, all stretching and chatting. It was intimidating to say the least but Ivy faked a hundred watt smile and went to stand by the ballet bar next to a black guy who didn't look too much older than her. Concentrating on warming up, she lifted her leg so that it was nearly parallel to her body. She was showing off a little, trying to prove that she could be one of them. The boy snickered quietly.

"What?" she asked questioningly.

"Nothing. You're just going to fit in perfectly around here." Ivy smiled, although she was unsure of whether or not he had intended it as a compliment. But before she could ask for an elaboration, they were being called to the front of the room. Numbers were handed out before everyone dispersed and they began learning the combination. It was fairly easy for someone with as much training as Ivy, so most of her energy went into selling it. She knew her one advantage was the fact that she was first and foremost an actor. She drew attention without upstaging. When they called for a water break, she couldn't help but notice the British assistant choreographer was smiling at her. She wasn't sure if it was because he thought she was pretty or because he thought she was talented. Either would have pleased Ivy. She smiled back, thinking all was going well. That is, until she heard

"Is that Leigh Conroy's kid?"

"Yeah. Probably thinks she's all that because of her mom." Ivy whipped around and saw two women standing my the mirrors, glaring at her.

"She probably does. All she has to do is get Mommy to pull some strings and she's in." the taller one said, rolling her eyes. Ivy shrank back. She would never use her mother to get a job! And besides, Leigh would never help her even if she asked. Her mom was dead set against Ivy going into showbiz, had been from day one. She had put herself through dance classes and vocal lessons her whole life. Ivy resented that these people thought she was getting things handed to her on a silver platter. She stormed back to her spot when they were called back and put her heart and soul into the rest of the audition.

She was sitting on her bed when the phone rang. Not recognizing the number, she picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello Ivy Conroy?" It was the assistant choreographer. She thought his name might be Derek.

"Yes."

"We'd like to offer you a position in the ensemble of "Little Women." She nearly shrieked in excitement.

"Seriously?" she asked. Then, realizing how unprofessional that sounded, she adjusted her voice to a businesslike tone.

"I mean.. Thank you." She fell into silence. How did one continue this conversation? He laughed, obviously amused by her youth.

"Rehearsals start on August 8th. You will be contacted about contracts within the next few weeks." Then he bid her adieu and hung up. Ivy rushed downstairs. She found her mother and father sitting in the living room, tensely watching television.

"Mom! Dad! I got the job." she screeched, rushing up to hug her father who was smiling at her, opened armed.

"That's great sweetie." He told her, kissing her forehead. Her mother, however, was a different story. Leigh looked on, almost coldly.

"Congratulations Ivy." she moved to leave the room. Ivy followed her to the kitchen. No matter what her mom said, this was a big deal. And she'd be damned if she couldn't force some kind of reaction out of Leigh.

"So, mom, I actually got a job!" she said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as possible.

"Yes. I know Ivy." Leigh replied, looking vaguely annoyed. Ivy decided to switch tactics.

"You know, everyone thought it was crazy that I was your daughter." Leigh seemed slightly more intrigued.

"These girls were actually saying that you got me the callback but they don't know how you are. I know you would never do that." she continued, hoping that guilt might cause Leigh to respond.

"Well, I'm sure my knowing the director probably didn't hurt honey." her mother replied casually, as if she were barely listening.

Ivy was pissed. First, her mom didn't care about something that she considered a pretty big step and now Leigh was actually making this about her career. Trust her narcissist mother to turn the conversation back on herself.

"I don't think you sleeping with the director twenty years ago made any difference in whether or not I got cast." she said through gritted teeth.

"Connections are everything in this business Ivy." Leigh murmured, obviously not caring about her daughter's knowledge of her past escapades.

"Mother!" Ivy screamed. Leigh turned.

"What is wrong with you? Can't you just be happy for me?" she asked, eyes brimming with tears.

"Well darling, you don't even know if this will pan out. People get replaced all the time. I just don't want you to get your hopes up." Leigh told her, putting on her concerned parent act. The one she usually reserved for when potential employers or Ivy's teachers were around, her dramatics tricking the important people into thinking that she actually gave a shit about her only daughter.

Ivy had had enough. She pushed past her mother, through the living room and out the door, slamming it as she left.

When Ivy got her equity card a few weeks later, she registered as Ivy Lynn. She severed any ties to her mother, at least in her career. But it was too late. Her perfect beginning had already been tainted.

~**END FLASHBACK**~

Ivy looked across at Karen once again. And, although she wasn't sure quite what possessed her to do so, she got up and walked over. Smiling a genuine smile, she sat down next to the girl.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I'm just a little stressed right now. My name's Ivy Lynn. What's yours?"

**Hope you enjoyed. Please review. **


	5. Her Smile And Your Fantasies

Her_ smile and your fantasies play a duet, that will make you forget where you are_

Contrary to popular belief, Michael Swift had never laboured under the delusion that what he was doing was in any way right. He had known from the moment he laid eyes on Julia that the whole mess was going to start right back up again, it was why he had been so hesitant to take the job, because there was now an important difference. The last time this had happened, he had been single, living alone, completely unattached. Of course, this didn't absolve him of all responsibility, he had been fully aware that she was married, but it left him with fewer stakes in the relationship. He could kiss her on the Brooklyn bridge without having to look over his shoulder. He could romance her in public, no worries about his wife seeing. He was free to adore her without the constant, nagging guilt that now permeated his every waking moment.

Michael wasn't a bad guy. Sure, he hadn't exactly planned on ending up with Monica, never mind having a child with her, but when he had inadvertently gotten her pregnant, he'd done right by her and proposed. And over the past few years, he had really grown to love his wife. The life they had created together, the child they had created together, it was all a man could have asked for. Michael had always loved children and his little boy meant the world to him. The thing Michael struggled with most in his affair was what it would do to Artie. He couldn't imagine a world where he was just a name on a check each month. An occasional visitor to his son, not a father.

And yet, Michael kept going with Julia. Despite his family, despite everything he stood to lose, he continued their affair.

Because he couldn't think when she wasn't there. Because when he looked at the redhead, his heart skipped a beat. Because every time they kissed, everything else ceased to exist.

Because that's what you did for love.

**Hope you enjoyed. Please review.**


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